Going against the Assailant

His black hair fluttered as the wind seemed to acknowledge his growth, his silver eyes gleaming as though absorbing all light.

Even with new tricks up his sleeve, his opponent was still assumed to be a C-rank, likely concealing his own strengths.

Jules extended his hand, and multiple tier-one blue magic circles formed before him.

In the language of magic, he spoke, "…Water Bullet."

The blue circles fired a barrage of water bullets, forcing his assailant to conjure an earth wall to block them.

While the wall formed, Jules was already on the move.

His dagger rested skillfully in his grasp as he dashed forward, following a calculated path. His silver eyes brightened with experience.

At that moment, it felt as if he had wielded a dagger for years—when, in reality, it had only been a year, and even then, he had rarely used it.

Jules closed the distance, pressing for a close-range battle.

His assailant frowned. Why would a mage like Jules rush in? Physically, he was superior to Jules, and while he was a mage, he had far more experience in close combat.

Pulling out a shortsword, the assailant moved to deflect the dagger, hoping to counter, but the unexpected weight behind Jules' attack caught him off guard.

He failed to gauge Jules' sudden surge in power and found himself in a tight spot. Jules wasn't merciful enough to slow down.

With relentless precision, Jules rained down slashes, forcing his opponent back and managing to land small cuts along the way.

'What should I do…? I can run now… or kill him once and for all and escape with less trouble. Can a spell turn the tables? No, he's a more skilled mage than me. A physical battle is my best option.'

Jules could feel it—he was exerting more power than his body could endure. In mere moments, or perhaps even seconds, the backlash would come.

His mind raced, instinctively drawing more power from the unformed skill.

Then, all thoughts stilled.

'I'll just kill him.'

A wave of focus, driven by a lethal intent, cleared away any hesitation.

In the midst of his relentless assault, Jules pushed his body beyond its limits and kicked his assailant in the ribs, sending him skidding backward.

But his opponent had not been idle.

As he staggered, the assailant muttered in the magic language, "Explode!"

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Red magic circles illuminated where Jules stood before erupting into violent explosions.

Smoke billowed through the alleyway as the assailant took the opportunity to launch another spell.

"Fire Arrows!" 

Swoosh—Swoosh—

Tier-two circles appeared, unleashing arrows of fire toward the thick smoke.

Faced with an uncertain outcome, the assailant pulled out a phone and hastily sent a message to his superiors.

"Help! Assistance required!" he said urgently.

Meanwhile, within the smoke, Jules twisted his body unnaturally, straining his muscles to minimize the impact of the traps.

With fire arrows incoming and limited time and mana, blocking with magic wasn't the best option.

At that moment, Jules ignored the damage his body was suffering and instinctively strengthened his muscles, executing footwork he had never witnessed before.

As the smoke cleared, Jules stood once more.

He had managed to escape both the explosive traps and the fire arrows, though at great cost.

His pants were burned, resembling shorts now, and his armor was showing clear signs of wear. Cuts marred his skin, some revealing raw burns.

On the surface, he appeared unfazed, but that was an illusion.

Beneath it all, his leg muscles were torn, and he could barely take a step.

"Y-You escaped all of that?! How?! What the hell did you do to get this strong all of a sudden?!"

The assailant tried to probe, but Jules merely stood there, unwavering. The golden glow coursing through his body was dimming.

Gritting his teeth, the assailant stretched out his hand, preparing a tier-four fire spell while simultaneously launching lower-tier spells to keep Jules at bay.

A tier-five spell would take too long to cast and leave him vulnerable—this was the best decision.

Jules raised multiple barriers to block the barrage, but immediately after, massive fireballs, akin to miniature meteorites, poured from a magic circle above.

"Let's see you block this! DIE, RAT!" the assailant roared as he commanded the fireballs downward.

Had Jules not been in such a serious state, he might have quipped, "Shit. I'm cooked… literally."

But instead of blocking with magic as the assailant anticipated, the scattered blood in the area trembled—then rushed toward Jules.

Now wielding an aspect of the Seraphim of War skill, Jules controlled the blood.

The spilled blood formed a thick shield above him, intercepting the descending flames.

"He has a skill?! Looks like it controls spilled blood… Was that how he escaped the fire trap?" The assailant's eyes widened. "Shit, should I retreat? I might get fired… or killed. This mission is too important to them!"

Jules seized the moment. The blood wall had granted him the chance to finally unleash the magic circles he had prepared in secret.

He had conserved his mana, waiting for the perfect moment.

That moment was now.

However, instead of using them for offense, he used them for defense.

Raising both hands, he chanted an incantation to strengthen his control over the spells.

"…Water Bullet." 

At that moment, the assailant noticed the dozens of tiny blue magic circles scattered across the alley.

His breath hitched—D-ranks weren't supposed to have range casting and multi-casting at the same time.

The water bullets shot toward the descending fireballs, steadily diminishing their size.

This was Jules' most vulnerable moment.

The assailant could see it—the blood trailing from his eyes and mouth, the barely noticeable trembling in his legs.

Jules was reaching his limit.

"Yes… that's right! You have a limit too!"

The assailant wasn't about to waste this chance.

Pushing his body to its peak with body enhancement, he charged straight at Jules. With his body in better shape, a close-range fight would end this quickly.

As he moved, he cast an earth spell, sending spikes flying toward Jules.

Jules barely managed to divert some of his focus, casting a barrier that slowed the spikes enough for him to shift his body.

Even so, they embedded themselves in his arms and thighs, though not deeply.

Despite seeing his assailant closing in, Jules could barely react.

He was still controlling an absurd number of magic circles, sustaining the blood wall against the fire, and struggling to remain standing despite his injuries.

Then, the shortsword appeared before him.

Jules tried to dodge with his dagger, but his body was too slow.

The blade pierced through his chest, striking just shy of his heart.

'Die, fool!' 

The assailant grinned.

Unbeknownst to the assailant, the aura of the Seraphim of War had a tinge of mind manipulation.